


A Close One

by blizzard



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Dad Bruce Wayne, Gen, Good ol' grandpa Alfred, Little Grayson, Some angst, Young dad Bruce does his best to raise Dick, Younger Bruce, batfam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 02:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blizzard/pseuds/blizzard
Summary: Twenty-three year old Bruce is new at being a dad and is learning how to balance parenting and being a billionaire philanthropist playboy. He ends up taking his six year old to a cocktail party despite Alfred's protests, and runs into some trouble. Naturally.





	A Close One

“Master Bruce, are you sure that this is a good idea?” Alfred covers his mouth to cough into his hand, his voice barely above a raspy whisper. “Really, taking master Dick to an adult cocktail party? At this age?”

“It’ll be fine, Al,” Bruce says as he smooths some wrinkles out of Alfred’s comforter, trying to make sure that he’s comfortable. “Really, I won’t be there long. The party starts at 8, we’ll leave at 10 –his bedtime. It’s hosted by Jacob Rulk, I thought I told you about him. He’d be a really good business partner to have, so I’m hoping to rub elbows with him tonight and talk more about it.”

“You’re hoping to talk _business_ at a party hosting this year’s Vanity Fair model lineup and a wet bar?” Alfred demands. He knows Bruce is 23, but he expects more maturity out of him at this age. 

“Yeah! Why not? Dick will be a hit with the ladies,” Bruce says with a smirk. 

Alfred rolls his eyes just as Dick pokes his head into Alfred’s bedroom. “Are we going now?” Dick excitedly jumps up and down in the tiny tailored and pressed suit Bruce dressed him in for the night. 

“Yes, yes, we’re going now,” Bruce gets up to pick up Dick as he runs into his arms. “Don’t you look _dashing_ tonight? Huh, Al?”

“Absolutely charming,” Alfred sighs, not wanting to cave, but it’s true. The child is absolutely adorable. “You had better keep an eye on him. If I find out he’s had even a sip of scotch…”

“God Al, what kind of guardian do you think I am?” Bruce says as he tosses Dick up in the air, making him squeal. 

“The kind who _just_ got his bachelors a year ago,” Alfred says, but Bruce doesn’t hear. Or if he does, he doesn’t act like it. 

“I’ll catch ya later, Alfred,” Bruce holds Dick under an arm in a way that makes Alfred’s blood pressure rise with worry. “We gotta leave now if we’re gonna make it by 8. I’ll text you on the way back, but really, try and sleep. We’ll be fine.” 

Dick waves at Alfred from over Bruce’s shoulder and Alfred sighs again, feeling the Nyquil start to take effect. 

*

“I want cookies!” Dick shrieks from his car seat. 

“Dick, for the last time, I don’t have cookies. You can have some tomorrow, baby.” Bruce says, already thinking of Alfred. 

“But Alfred, Alfred said that I could have some today!” Dick protests. Bruce looks in the rearview mirror and sees tears forming in the kid’s eyes. His heart twists; he considers Dick’s tears his only weakness as Bruce and as Batman. 

Dick’s protesting devolves to wordless crying and Bruce wracks his brain for any way to get him to stop. “There might be cookies at the party, Dick! There’s no need to cry.” 

“Really?” Dick sniffles and wipes his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Bruce hopes to God that he isn’t lying to Dick. “There’ll be cookies and juice. But they only give it to kids who don’t cry, alright?”

“O-Okay…” Dick says, calming down. 

Bruce sighs and puts on _The Lion King_ soundtrack for the rest of the ride to ensure that Dick wouldn’t start another tantrum. He’s heard the entire soundtrack at least a million times, but he doesn’t really mind. It’s catchy. 

The valet takes Bruce’s bugatti after Bruce takes Dick out of the backseat, still humming _I Just Can’t Wait to Be King_ to himself. He’s relieved to see that Dick is in a much better mood and holds his hand as they walk into a rented conference hall. Bruce hears the music before the doors open and Alfred’s words of protest revisit him. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea… 

Dick clings to Bruce’s leg as they move through seas of people. Bruce pats his head to comfort him and walks toward a table with different horderves to get Dick’s promised dessert. Bruce picks up Dick and holds him on his hip so the kid can get a better look at the food. He smiles as he watches Dick’s expression brighten. “Look, see? They have cookies. Which do you want?”

“Chocolate chip!” Dick sings, enjoying the fact that he’s allowed to be loud with so much commotion around him. 

“Alright, here,” Bruce hands him the cookie just as Jacob Rulk comes up to the table to nab something from the chocolate fountain. Bruce quickly puts Dick back on the floor again before he takes a few steps forward and introduces himself. “Mr. Rulk! Hi, I’m Bruce Wayne, pleasure to see you again,” he extends a hand out to the suited man.

“Bruce Wayne! Hello, good to see you,” Jacob gives Bruce a firm handshake and sees the child standing next to him. “Is this your son?” He asks, seeming a bit perplexed.

“Uh, yes, my babysitter got sick at the last minute.” Bruce says. Dick looks at Jacob with wide eyes and a mouth covered in crumbs. 

“Cute little thing, isn’t he? Planning to have a drink tonight too, little guy?” Jacob tries to pinch Dick’s cheek but he deftly dodges the older man’s fingers and moves closer to Bruce.

Bruce chuckles politely at Jacob’s joke which he doesn’t really find all that funny. “No, but I’m sure he’d love some orange juice.”

“They might have some at the bar. They might use some as a mixer.”

“Thanks for the heads up. Actually, we’re probably not going to stay that long anyway. I just wanted to swing by and talk to you about that offer you were telling me about a couple weeks ago, if you remember.”

Jacob takes a moment to remember. “Ohhh, yes, yes. The one about making real ‘ideal’ transformers.”

“Yes, exactly,” Bruce smiles, relieved that Jacob remembered. “I’m really impressed with your prototypes. Normally you’d expect some sort of energy loss with any transformer, but these are pretty close to ideal draw ups.”

After a few more minutes of talking, Dick is finished with his cookie and feeling thirsty. Not to mention bored with all this boring stuff the adults are talking about. He grabs a fistful of Bruce’s jacket and pulls. “I’m thirsty.”

“Yes and– hold on a minute, Dick. I’m talking right now.” Bruce taps Dicks hand to make him let go. 

Dick growls to himself and crosses his arms, disliking the dismissal. It isn’t fair that orange juice was just mentioned and he doesn’t get to have any. He remembers hearing something about a bar and looks around. He can barely see anything through the forest of legs, but Bruce is busy ignoring him. He can find his own way. Dick makes his way around the adults and looks over his shoulder; Bruce and Jacob are still talking and neither had noticed him walk away. This only makes Dick more annoyed, and he continues his trek. 

*

A model at the bar is surprised (understandably) when a six year old child climbs up on a barstool next to her. She looks around, wondering how a kid got into this party and impressed with the fact that he’s wearing a suit. 

“Do you have orange juice?” Dick asks the bartender over the music. 

The bartender freezes and shares a bewildered look with the model next to the kid. She puts a hand up and shrugs. She doesn’t know him. Nevertheless, she decides to keep her eye on him while the bartender puts a big glass of orange juice in front of him. “You can put it on my tab,” the model tells her. The bartender raises her brows, but doesn’t protest. Dick smiles at the model while he takes a big sip of his juice through his straw. 

“What’s your name, buddy?” The model leans closer to Dick so she can hear him better. 

“Dick Grayson,” he tells her, unreserved. “What’s your name?”

“Esperanza Martinez,” the model responds. “Are your parents here?”

“Esperanza? That’s a cool name,” Dick says and keeps sipping on his juice. “And yeah, I came with my dad.”

“Thank you,” Esperanza smiles and looks around for someone who looks like they’ve just lost a child. Who the hell would bring their kid to a private cocktail party? “Do you know where your dad is?”

Dick shakes his head. “He was talking to some other guy but I got thirsty, so I went to go find some juice. He said they had orange juice at the bar. I know what a bar is because my dad has one in his house and he told me what it was before. He has a million cups in it. Alfred cleans them. He’s our butler.”

“Oh, wow…” Esperanza chuckles, sounding impressed. This kid’s cute. She figures she’ll just sit with him until she’s able to help find his dad. Her eyes scan the crowd again but she doesn’t see anyone who could be a lost parent.

“Um, did you know, that my dad, Bruce Wayne, he sings all _The Lion King_ songs for me?” Dick starts talking again after he’s finished most of his juice. 

“Does he?” Esperanza giggles. This kid is Bruce Wayne’s _son?_ She starts to wonder how responsible of a dad the young billionaire is if he’s letting his child run wild at a cocktail party. 

“Yeah! And he lets me call him Bruce Wayne. Sometimes I call him papa, but I think that Bruce sounds better. Everyone else calls him Bruce.” Dick chatters away.

“He does?” Esperanza keeps up a positive attitude for the kid; he doesn’t know any better and seems sweet. “You got some chocolate on your face, baby,” she wets her napkin and wipes Dick’s face for him.

Dick tolerates it because he’s decided that he likes Esperanza. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s because Bruce gave me a cookie earlier.”

“No need to apologize, honey,” Esperanza says. Her heart’s been stolen by this little kid in under 10 minutes. “It’s okay. How’s your juice?”

“Good,” Dick says with a yawn. He’s finished with it now.

Esperanza ignores a man who tries to chat her up and checks her watch. 10 o'clock. “Are you tired, honey?”

Dick nods and leans his head down on the counter. Suddenly everything sounds too loud and all the lights are too bright.

“Oh, don’t put your head on that, it’s dirty. If you’re tired, I’ll take you back to my table. I left my jacket with some friends. You can use it as a blanket.” Esperanza rubs his back comfortingly. 

Dick feels comfortable enough with Esperanza that he decides to trust her. She bought his drink for him and sat with him. She’s nice. “I want my dad…”

“ _Ay,_ I know, baby. We’ll find him.” Esperanza stands and holds her arms out for Dick. “I can carry you if you like.”

Dick leans into her arms and puts his head on her shoulder. He closes his eyes and remembers how his mom used to hold him before he lost his parents.

Esperanza rubs Dicks back as she carries him back to her table, which wasn’t too far away from where she had found Dick. She looks around while she walks, starting to worry. What if this larger-than-life Mr. Wayne fucking forgot about his kid? She can’t take care of him forever, as much as she would secretly like to. She reminds him of her daughter. Esperanza can’t stop thinking about how she’d lose her goddamn mind if she ever lost her daughter at a club. Though, she’d never in a million years bring her daughter to a club. She lets Dick sleep on her chest and puts her jacket over him, explaining the situation to her friends and keeping watch at the table. 

After half an hour passes, a man pushing through the walls of people catches Esperanza’s attention, and she stands. 

*

“Excuse me, sorry, have you seen a kid about yea high? He’s six. He’s wearing a suit. He’s got brown hair and blue eyes. He’s the sweetest kid in the whole world.” Bruce frantically tells anyone who’ll listen. He’s given up trying to keep calm. He’s been looking for Dick for an hour, running up flights of stairs and different rooms, trying to hold off a panic attack all the while. Alfred was right. He was being irresponsible by taking Dick to this party, he should’ve listened to him. Alfred was always right. And now who knows what happened to Dick. Someone could’ve taken him away and stolen him from right under his nose, just like his parents all those years ago. His parents hadn’t been his fault, but Dick’s disappearance was completely preventable. Bruce’s chest feels tight and he’s breathing too hard. Adrenaline is making his hands shake. 

Dick’s gone. It’s all his fault. 

“Are you looking for someone?” A beautiful model with brown skin approaches Bruce holding a peacefully sleeping child in her arms. 

Bruce’s eyes lock onto the child and he immediately recognizes Dick’s sleeping face. “Yes, yes! That’s my son! Oh, Dick. Thank God.” Bruce finally feels like he can breathe again as he takes Dick from the model’s hands. She looks him over with a critical eye at first, but then her expression softens. 

“I found him at the bar. He was ordering orange juice.” She says with a smirk. 

“Orange…? Oh my God…” Bruce sniffles and wipes the tears out of his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I looked away for a second while I was talking and he was gone. I thought…”

“It’s okay,” Esperanza says, glad to see that Bruce upset over losing his child, even if bringing him to a party was a dumb idea, in her opinion. “I’m just glad we found you. He said he was missing you.”

Bruce squeezes Dick tightly, never wanting to let him out of his sight again. Dick groans in protest at Bruce’s too-tight hug. “Stop squeezing me…” he says sleepily.

“Dick, why did you run off? I was so worried.” Bruce huffs and tries to level his breathing again. 

“You wouldn’t get me juice! Esperanza got some for me.”

“Esperanza? Is that your name?” Bruce asks her while Dick puts his head back down on Bruce’s shoulder. “I’ll thank you properly, Esperanza. I’ll send you a check. I’m Bruce Wayne, by the way.”

“Martinez,” Esperanza nods. “Oh, it’s alright, really. I’m just glad your boy’s okay. I have a daughter too, her name’s Nicole. I’d be feeling the same way you are if I ever lost her.”

Bruce smiles. He doubts Esperanza will take a check off him at the moment, but he’ll ask Jacob about her later and find some way to send her some money. There’s no way he can’t now that he knows she has a kid too. “How old is she?”

“She’s turning seven this week,” Esperanza says with a camera-worthy smile. 

“Aw, that’s great. If you like, we can set up a playdate for them some time. Dick needs more friends. He can be a bit shy.” Bruce rubs Dick’s back lovingly.

“Really? Him? I wouldn’t have guessed. He was just chatting away before he got tired and wanted to sleep,” Esperanza chuckles. “And sure, a playdate sounds great. If you want, you both can just swing by the party we’re having this weekend. It’s just a simple pool party for kids, nothing fancy like this.” She looks around the place for emphasis. 

“We’ll definitely be there,” Bruce assures her and readjusts Dick on his shoulder. Though he could lift much heavier things than his son, he was feeling exhausted after all the adrenaline that had ripped through his veins an hour ago. And it was way past Dick’s bedtime, the poor kid. “Here, I’ll give you my number and we can talk more about it later. I need to go and tuck this kid into bed.”

“Oh, alright!” Esperanza gets out her phone to exchange numbers. She can’t wait to brag to her friends that she nabbed Bruce Wayne’s number at a party. Ironic really, considering the fact that she’s gay. But bragging rights are bragging rights. “Have a safe drive back home, Mr. Wayne.”

“Call me Bruce,” he says with a wave. “And thanks again.”

*

“ _Bruce Wayne_ that has _got_ to be the most stupid, irresponsible, and neglectful thing you have done to this boy yet!” Alfred yells from his bed the next morning. Or, he tries, but his voice is so shot that it’s a miracle he’s making a sound at all. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you take him to that party, I should’ve tried harder to stop you, so that was my fault, but this! You lose your gloves, Bruce, not a _child_!”

Bruce shrinks away from Alfred, still holding a tray of breakfast for the man. Alfred rarely ever calls him by his full name and it’s usually not a good thing whenever he does. “Look, Al, you’re right, I should’ve listened to you. I won’t do it again, it was stressful for both of us, and completely inappropriate on my part.”

Alfred snorts and rubs his forehead. Getting so angry in the morning while he’s sick only gives him a headache. “Thank God Esperanza found him, bless her soul. Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on him? I _told_ you to keep an eye on him, Bruce. And what do you do? You let him run off to a _bar_ by himself!”

“It was an accident!” Bruce winces. The guilt he felt last night rushes back, and he starts to think of his parents again. “Alfred, I know, you don’t have to tell me. This’ll never happen again. I… I couldn’t stand losing any part of my family again.”

The mention of Bruce’s late parents makes Alfred quiet, though he holds a hard look on Bruce. Dick pokes his head into the room, knowing that his guardians are talking about him. He runs to Alfred’s bed and jumps on it, luckily nowhere near Alfred’s legs. “Good morning Alfred! We made you breakfast! I poured the cereal.” He tells him proudly.

“Did you? You are the sweetest thing, do you know that master Dick?” Alfred says without a trace of anger in his voice to show Dick. He sits up to kiss the boy’s forehead tenderly.

Dick nods, grinning ear to ear from Alfred’s kiss. “Bruce made the eggs! I wanted to make the eggs but he wouldn’t let me because he said the fire was too hot and I was too short to reach, but I _can_ reach. I got down the strawberry gummies all by myself from the top cupboard last week. It’s not hard to climb up there. That’s what I tried to tell him, that I could climb up there, but he still wouldn’t let me.”

“You climbed on the counter? Master Dick, you know you’re not supposed to do that,” Alfred tuts. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to talk about climbing rules in this house,” Bruce says, setting the food tray on Alfred’s lap. He sees Dick frown and he can’t help but smile. He’s thankful beyond words that he’s here with him.

“And _we’re_ going to have another parenting talk later,” Alfred tells Bruce as he starts on his eggs. 

Bruce sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He’s definitely not looking forward to that talk. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s leave Alfred alone so he can eat in peace. We still have to make our own breakfast.”

“I want pancakes!” Dick says and leaps from the bed into Bruce’s arms, who was completely unprepared for the surprise attack. 

Bruce catches him deftly as a test of his reflexes and walks back to the kitchen. “I’ll see if we have any.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I hope you liked my fic. I used [this prompt](https://knites.tumblr.com/post/161439053094/audreycritter-whore4batfam-23-year-old-bruce) on tumblr as inspiration. I _love_ the concept of young dad Bruce not knowing what the hell he's doing. I also love writing about kids. I made Dick 6 instead of 8 because I'd expect that kind of running off behavior from a slightly younger child.
> 
> To clarify, Dick is wary of strange men he doesn't know, but he's fine with women.


End file.
